


To Die For

by grrriliketigers



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grrriliketigers/pseuds/grrriliketigers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The job a million girls would kill for just became to die for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

One thing that you should know about the world of criminal enterprise is that even though it exists outside of law, it has its own efficient governing body. Problems are usually taken care of... in house so to speak. 

There are also classes of criminals. Rapists and child molesters are universally considered by law abiding citizens and criminals alike to be utterly classless, unworthy of redemption and totally expendable. Pick pockets are like entry-level criminals, they're often children, they often come from broken homes or no home at all. Loan sharks and bookies are considered very low because they victimize and exploit people who have addictions and who are running out of options. The individual jobs within the mafia have their own rankings, usually decided amongst themselves, the boss, of course, sits at the top. The highest on the criminal spectrum is the hired gun. 

Done right, the hired gun is the best paid criminal of all. Because the client is in _need_ of the hired gun's services, the hired gun is free to set the price however high as desired. And the person who controls the hired guns holds all the cards.

**

_England 1973_

_"Just jump!" Helena insisted, "it's not that far!"_

_"Oh god..." Miriam squeezed her eyes shut and jumped out of the window. She landed in the grass next to Helena. She stood up and brushed herself off._

_"You okay?"_

_"Yeah." Miriam nodded, "none the worse for wear. What now?"_

_"We just escaped from the foster home from hell, we have to celebrate." Helena grinned._

_Miriam shrugged, "let's not count our chickens before they hatch. We made it to the outside, let's get out of the neighborhood before we count it as a victory."_

_"Fair enough, that's why you're the brains." Helena said before stealing a quick kiss and grabbing Miriam by the hand and the two of them took off toward the city._

_By the time they reached London it was nearly morning. They walked between businesspeople shuffling toward and away from metro stations and cars._

_"We need money." Helena announced._

_Miriam bumped against a man who sneered at her and kept walking. She opened the wallet she'd just lifted, "well, Charles Townsend, let's see how much you carry. Twenty quid and fifty pee."_

_"We can eat breakfast, let's go." Helena announced._

_Miriam pocketed the money and dumped the wallet into a trashcan. "We need a long term plan for making money is what we need."_

_"With your pickpocketing skills? And me practicing? Not to mention we're _orphans_ and have no papers, it's not like we could just _get_ a job." _

_"But we could move _up_ in the criminal enterprise." _

_Helena nodded, "definitely. Make more money quicker, right?"_

_"Right."_

_"So what's the long term plan?"_

_**_

_Miriam covered her ears as Helena emptied her clip. "Stop! What are you doing? The dude is dead, no need to empty your clip into him! We have a limited amount of ammo!"_

_"I'm making an investment in our reputation." Helena holstered her gun, "we're crazy and we get the job _done_." _

_Miriam let out an aggrieved sigh._

_"Hey, you're the accounting, I'm the marketing, right?"_

_"I just... I think that the best way to solidify our reputation is by doing the job efficiently and letting the work speak for itself." Miriam bit her lip._

_"I'll foot the bill for the extra ammo." Helena insisted._

_"You think you have the pickpocketing skills to raise that much money?" Miriam teased._

_"You don't think I can do it? How did I get your gun without you noticing, then?"_

_Miriam gasped and reached to her belt only to find that her gun was still there._

_"Made you look..." Helena laughed before pulling Miriam in for a kiss._

**

Emily strode down the hallway slowly. She held the newspaper to her chest and felt her heart pounding against it. She didn't look forward to giving it to Miranda. 

Miranda looked up from her work as Emily walked up to the modern concept glass desk. Emily fidgeted, holding tightly to the paper.

"Give me the paper Emily." Miranda demanded in a menacing whisper, holding out her hand and staring down the Brit. Emily reluctantly handed her the London Times. The headline announced: Another Model Slain. Miranda snarled and threw the paper down on the desk.

Emily sneezed, earning a glare of epic proportions from Miranda. Emily tried to play it off. "I'm ready to take this on during fashion week, Miranda." 

"Emily, while I am aware that you have little to no self-respect, I couldn't possibly send you on something as important as this with you sniffling like that. You'd be a sitting duck and I'd lose one of my best marksmen." Miranda sat back in her chair. "I need someone else."

"There is no one else." Emily protested. 

"Not true." A grin slowly spread across Miranda's face and her eyes flashed mischievously. 

"No, no, no. You can't mean-"

"I can and I do." Miranda snapped. "Are you questioning me?" 

"Of course not!" Emily's eyes were wide. 

"Then get out of my sight." Miranda snapped. Emily turned on her heel and made haste out of the office. Miranda sighed and sat back. She rubbed her temples and bit her lip, this was bad and she knew it. 

"Andrea," Miranda called softly. 

Andy jumped up from her desk and sauntered up to her boss-- and lover--'s desk. "What can I do for you?"

Miranda pursed her lips against a smile. "You can go to Chanel and pick up the sunglasses and then you can pick up the twins' new school uniforms and then you can go wait for me in my bed." 

"Yes, ma'am." Andy turned on her heel and Miranda watched her ass and sashaying skirt as she retreated. 

Nigel passed Andy in the hallway and gave Miranda's lecherous gaze a playful eyeroll. "You dog." 

"What do you want, Nigel?" 

"I want to talk about what you're thinking about doing." He said as he closed the door and drew the curtain behind him. 

"And what, pray, am I thinking about doing?" 

"Miranda, there's no reason to play dumb with me. You know I hold you in the highest esteem and I am forever grateful to you for my job and the fact that I _have_ a career. But I feel, that as your friend, I should tell you that I am adamantly against bringing Andy into Runaway." 

Miranda remained silent. Nigel took a deep breath for courage and continued, "she has no criminal record, she was accepted to Harvard _Law_ , she's always preaching morals and standards and I don't think that just because you're involved means she'll be okay with what we do." 

Miranda drummed her fingers on the desk. "Andrea is a joiner just like the rest of us. You saw how quickly she shed her uppity Connecticut ideals and clothing to fit in here. She was a member of the archery club through high school and most of college." 

"And what? We're going to send her out with a bow and arrow?" Nigel laughed, "I think your judgment is clouded, Miranda." 

Miranda stood menacingly. "Nigel, I appreciate your candor. I do, however, respectfully disagree that my judgment is anything but _sound_."

"But _I'm_ the recruiter." Nigel protested. 

In one fluid movement Miranda pulled a gun and pressed it to his temple. Nigel moved for his gun only to realize that somehow Miranda had pulled his own gun on him. "And I'm the _boss_." She hissed.


	2. Chapter 2

"Fuck!" Andy hissed as Miranda's tongue moved unceasingly over her clit and her fingers curled and thrust into her. Andy lifted her hips against Miranda as she worked. 

Andy's breath hitched, her heart pounded in her chest and her body started to contract around Miranda. Finally Andy cried out and had to push Miranda away as she revelled in her orgasm. She felt like her body was on fire, she felt that way every time Miranda finished pleasuring her. 

When she looked over at Miranda she found the older woman watching her with a satisfied grin. 

Andy laughed, "you look happier about that than I do." 

"Maybe I am..." Miranda whispered as she used a well manicured fingernail to trail lightly over Andy's torso and breasts. Andy shivered and let out a soft moan. "Andrea, would you like to do something for me?" 

"Name it." 

Miranda slid off the bed and wrapped herself in the silk Oscar de la Renta robe and disappeared inside the closet. 

Andy sat up and strained to see what Miranda was after. 

When Miranda came back she was holding a box that looked like an ordinary photo box. She set it down in front of Andy and put her hand over the lid, drawing her attention back up to Miranda's face. "Andrea, you've heard, I'm sure, that several models have been killed recently."

"Yeah, of course, it's crazy." Andy professed, "I couldn't believe it. Especially because they weren't all in the same city and they were all models who'd recently appeared in Runway. Those have to be some pretty fantastic odds." 

Miranda almost smiled. "Well, it certainly wasn't a coincidence." Miranda pulled the lid off the box.

Andy jumped back, startled by the sight of a gun nestled into the box. " _You_ shot them?" Andy demanded, "no, you couldn't have, I know you haven't been out of the city in a month... I'm more confused than ever. Not to mention I'm feeling pretty vulnerable here naked and I babble when I'm nervous..." 

Miranda pulled the gun out of the box. "Andrea, this is a vintage Philadelphia Deringer one round pistol, circa 1865." She cocked the hammer. Andy gasped. Miranda smiled, "it's not loaded." She drawled. 

Miranda held the gun in the palm of her hand and watched as Andy remained mezmerized by it. "It weighs approximately a pound and was designed to fit inside a pocket. A gun just like this killed Abraham Lincoln. It's probably the single most valuable thing I own." 

Silence stretched between them for a few long moments and Miranda turned the pistol over in her hand again. "Does it surprise you to learn that I own a gun?"

Andy looked back up into Miranda's eyes. She shrugged, "a little, yeah." 

Miranda smiled and turned it over so that she was holding the gun by the muzzle. "Would you like to hold it?"

Andy nodded minutely, "kind of."

"Yes or no, Andrea."

" _Yes_." Andy surprised herself as she answered Miranda in a firm and steady voice. 

Miranda moved to sit behind Andy. Miranda's free hand caressed gently up Andy's arm and Miranda pressed the pistol into Andy's left hand and drew her right hand to clasp it firmly in both hands. 

Andy's pointer fingers rested gently against the trigger and her heart thudded in her chest. "It's cold." 

Miranda smiled against her lover's neck. "It's metal." She kissed up the slope of her neck. "Have you never held a gun before?"

Andy swallowed hard and shook her head. 

"I know exactly who it is that has shot all of my models." Miranda whispered into Andy's ear, "and I think it only fitting that justice is delivered swiftly. Don't you?"

"Shouldn't we call the police then?" Andy asked, her voice starting to shake. 

"You should know that we have our own self-policing system. We know when we've broken the rules and we know to expect retaliation." Miranda's fingers stroked Andy's. 

"We?" Andy stammered. 

Miranda's lips curled into a smile against Andy's ear. "Assassins." She whispered as she covered Andy's hands and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked and Andy let out a frightened yelp and attempted to drop the gun but Miranda held her. 

"And here I thought I knew all of your vices..." Andy laughed nervously. She swallowed, "you're an assassin?"

"Forever and for always." Miranda confirmed, "but these days I play a more bureaucratic role in the business."

"Business?" 

"Runaway." 

Andy furrowed her brow, "Runway?"

" _Runaway_." Miranda corrected. "There is Runway which is a legitimate business venture started in 1967 by G.L. Wright and then there is Runaway which is a lucrative but illegal business started by me in the late eighties. We deal mostly in contract killings, high profile targets. The sort of people who, when you want them dead, you want the job done right." 

"The models... they're your assassins..." 

"It's not only the models." Miranda smiled, "almost a quarter of the employees at Runway are also employees of Runaway." 

"A quarter? People that I see every day? Assassins?"

"They're not all assassins, they've all got their particular set of skills. They've all been carefully selected for what they bring to the table." Miranda pulled her hands up Andy's arms and Andy kept pointing the gun into the empty corner of the room. "I want you to come work for me at Runaway."

" _Me_?" Andy was incredulous, she dropped the gun on the bed. "I... I-I-I don't have any _skills_ for Runaway. I've never held a gun, I get sick on long car rides, I've never even gotten a parking ticket." 

"Andrea, do you think that I would choose you without having my reasons?" Miranda asked coolly. 

The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Andy looked up and smiled weakly, "does it come with a pay raise?" She asked, laughing uncomfortably. 

**

Andy inched into the closet and up to Nigel. Nigel was cleaning the barrel of his gun and Andy peeked around his arm. 

"I see Miranda told you..." he said without looking up.

"Yeah..." She whispered, "I... didn't really believe it... I still kind of don't..." 

"Well, you'd better get used to it because not believing it is a quick way to get yourself killed." Nigel snapped, putting his gun back together.

Andy's eyes widened. 

"Look. My role here is to recruit and it makes me angry when she goes behind my back." He held the gun in his hand and looked pointedly at Andy. "Which isn't to say that I won't do everything I can to make sure you're prepared because I _like_ you, Six. I may not think you're qualified for Runaway but then, I didn't think you were qualified for Runway and I suppose if I could be wrong about that..." 

Andy looked up at him, "thank you?" 

He smiled despite himself, "let's get you equipped then." He walked over to the shoe racks and pulled them out and behind them was an arsenal of guns. He put a finger over his lips in thought, "let's see..." He pulled a gun out of the rack and pushed it into Andy's hand, "how's the glock feel? Is that too heavy?"

"Which part's the glock?" 

"Ay carumba..." Nigel rolled his eyes. "The whole thing is a glock, it's a gun, it's called a _glock_." 

"Oh..." Andy nodded as though she understood. "Got anything... smaller?"

Nigel heaved an annoyed sigh and took another gun off the wall, "try this Smith & Wesson semi. How's that feel?" 

Andy nodded, "I like it, it's small and light. It's obviously not as nice as Miranda's Deringer but it's a little lighter." 

"Miranda let you _touch_ her Deringer?" Nigel's jaw dropped. Nigel put a hand on Andy's shoulder, "I love you, you're one of my best friends... and if I liked you even a _little_ less, I would kill you out of jealousy." 

Andy's eyes were wide. 

"I was just..." Nigel shook his head, "forget it. Let's get you a thigh holster. 

**

Serena sauntered into the room, smiling at Emily when she turned, "I thought I'd find you down here." 

"Who needs a therapist when you can blast the hell out of something?" Emily asked rhetorically before pulling the trigger and obliterating a small plaster statue. "When did you get back?"

"Last night. Word's already come down the grapevine about Andy." 

Emily scoffed and shot another statue. 

Serena strode up and stood next to Emily. "I understand your frustration. You were Miranda's golden child and now she's smitten with Andy. You know Miranda, she's fickle." 

"Not making me feel better..." Emily sniffled. 

Serena smiled, "I just mean that she craves change all the time. And it's not anything personal, she's just a little obsessive compulsive."

"But _Andy_?" Emily demanded, "I mean, fine if she finds a little wretch from New Zealand who can shoot the left front tooth out of a rat at fifty meters, but hiring goody-two shoes _Andy_ is degrading to our whole profession." 

Serena put a hand on Emily's back, "at least Miranda wants you to stay alive. She thinks you'll be a sitting duck. Want to practice sniping."

" _Sniping_?"

"Snipering?" Serena shrugged, picking up a pair of binoculars. "Come on, Em, stay sharp. B6." 

Emily sighed and picked up her Barrett XM109 rifle. She leaned it against the half wall and adjusted the sight until she could see the lego people set up at the other end of the warehouse. She searched them until she saw B6 and squeezed the trigger. B6 toppled over and Emily stood up triumphantly. 

Serena nudged her with a grin, "at least you know you're not losing your touch." 

"Yeah, Miranda's a fool to bench me just because I have a little cold." Emily sniffled and resumed the stance, "give me another one." 

"E8." 

Emily took aim and started to squeeze the trigger when a sneeze overtook her and the shot was fired straight up. Both women gasped and covered their heads as pieces of glass from the light rained down on them. Emily looked up sheepishly. "On the other hand maybe Miranda has a point..." 

Serena laughed, "we all know you're the best marksman." 

"How long you think she'll last?"

"Sachs?" Serena scoffed. "I give her a week."

Emily grinned, "you're going too easy on her. I give it 24 hours tops before she gets herself shot."

The two stopped laughing when they heard the upstairs door open. They waited and the basement door opened and Andy started down the stairs. "Hi..." she said slowly as she descended the stairs. 

"Hi." Serena said curtly. 

"Nigel said I should come and get some shooting practice in." Andy crept forward, "this is crazy. Who'd've thought this was down here, right?" 

Emily rolled her eyes, "let's see the gun Nigel gave you." 

Andy reached down and unhooked the gun from the holster at her leg. "Nigel said it's a Smith & Wesson Semi."

Emily took it and looked it over. "Did he show you how to load it and clean it?" 

Andy nodded as Emily handed it back. 

"It's awfully light." Emily furrowed her brow. "Is that going to be a problem for you?"

"No... I asked for a light one, why would it be a problem?" 

"Well, it's smaller so it holds less ammo and you might not notice if it falls out of the holster because the weight isn't significant." Emily shrugged. "Want to shoot it?"

Emily grabbed Andy by the arm and pulled her up to the half wall. "Shouldn't I have ear protetion?"

"All of Runaway guns have silencers." Emily rolled her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, I'm getting pretty good at this." Andy grinned. 

Emily shook her head, "you don't suck as much as when you first came in. Keep going." 

"So, are there more places like this?" Andy asked as she squeezed off another round that sailed past her intended target and smashed a plate on an easel. "Oops."

"Runway owns five warehouses for 'storage.' Miranda keeps two of them as gun ranges. People bring things down here they'd like to shoot. After Christmas there's always an influx of ugly ass clothes, dishes, vases, picture frames, etc."

Serena handed Andy a pair of binoculars, "see way at the back there're lego people?"

Andy adjusted the lenses and furrowed her brow, "where?"

"They're pretty far back. That's sniper practice." Serena took the binoculars back. 

Andy snorted a laugh, "I can't imagine anyone being able to hit those. Lego people are like an inch tall and that has to be, like, fifty feet away."

"It's more like seventy feet away." Emily corrected. 

Andy laughed, "no one can hit that!"

Emily glared and picked up her rifle. "Serena, call it." 

Serena didn't try to hide her grin as she picked up the binoculars, "E10, E6 and C3." 

Emily took a moment to get the first lego in her sights and squeezed the trigger, moving slightly left to hit the next target and swinging to the right and taking out the last one. When she set the rifle down Andy was staring down the length of the warehouse with wide eyes.

"Go down to the legos if you like and see that I hit the right ones." Emily crossed her arms across her chest. 

Andy shook her head, "no, I believe you... wow. How'd you do that?" 

"I have 20/16 vision. The scope helps a lot too." Emily admitted. 

"Are you also a sniper?" Andy asked Serena.

"Me? No..." Serena smiled and shook her head. "My talents lay elsewhere. I'm pretty good with a gun if I need to be but my specialty is getting weapons through security checkpoints. You'll have to come see me about that, I don't have my supplies here." 

"For instance, my rifle breaks down into many small pieces and I have a make-up back and empty bottles and tubes that hold all the pieces and it goes right through the x-ray scanning machines." 

"Yeah, usually we don't bring guns on planes or anything so they can just go in the hold." Serena said, "but occasionally things need to be with you and that's also doable. You'll get the full briefing, I'm sure you're going to be sent around to all of us eventually."

"Who else is part of Runaway?" Andy asked. 

Serena shook her head, "we never give a list. You're first directed to each individual person you need to and some people are part of Runaway and you'll never know for sure. It minimizes our risk if not everyone is aware of everyone else. I think the only people who know the whole staff are Miranda and Nigel, maybe not even Nigel." 

"Nigel wasn't very happy that Miranda recruited me."

"Yeah, Nigel gets his panties in a twist when Miranda does his job." Emily shrugged, "but none of us are particularly thrilled that you signed on."

"That's not fair, Emily, I think I've proven that I-"

"That you what? You _belong_ at Runway? You don't belong, you're ready to high tail it as soon as you get your chance, maybe the only reason you're still here is because you're fucking Miranda. I don't really care why you're still here. The thing that pisses me off about you being hired is that you have no criminal record and before you do anything incriminating you are a huge liability to all of us. Especially Miranda and she's let her sex drive cloud her judgment." 

"I wouldn't ever hurt Miranda." Andy blinked, "I... I just wouldn't." 

"Maybe you wouldn't, maybe I believe that but I don't think you have it in you to kill someone. And Miranda's done too much for all of us for us not to be suspicious of you." 

Andy remained silent, she wasn't sure she disagreed. Emily started to breakdown her gun so she could take it home. Andy spoke again, "everyone else at Runaway has a record?"

"Yup." Emily nodded, "actually, no... I don't think Miranda ever got caught for anything... her record is clean 'officially' but no one at Runaway doesn't have at least a couple of years of criminal activity under their belt... except you." 

"What did you all do?"

"I was stuck in a prison in Colombia for almost a year before Nigel and Miranda sprung me. I used to traffic guns from all over South America and get them across the border to the US. When I went through Colombia the last time I ran up against a drug cartel and things went sour and when they came to arrest me I took out a couple of the cops before they got me." Serena explained. 

"Oh, so... it's like indentured servitude. She bailed you out so you work for her to work it off." Andy nodded. 

"No way," Serena furrowed her brow. "This is the sort of thing I _do_ and to have the protection of a pre-existing organization and the support of someone as powerful and feared as Miranda Priestly? This place is a criminal's dream. Not to mention that if we ever want to go straight we'll have a real job to put on our resumes." 

"Oh." Andy nodded again, "okay, that makes sense." 

"Miranda got me out of a juvenile detention center in Sussex." Emily said as soon as she had packed her rifle away. "I was pending review of whether they would release me or if they were going to transfer me to an adult facility."

"What was the charge?"

"Armed robbery. I didn't kill anybody that time. I incapacitated three guards, I got them in the shoulders. I wasn't trying to kill them, there's a spot in the shoulder," Emily reached out and pressed her pointer and middle finger into Andy's shoulder, "between the clavicle and the coracoid, it's a through and through shot that'll hurt the muscle enough so the person can't shoot me back but it'll heal fine enough." 

Serena chimed in, "Miranda wanted her as soon as she heard about the robbery but she had to wait until she turned eighteen. Emily's the best sniper Runaway's had in _years_." 

"How old were you when you committed the robbery?" 

Emily couldn't help the indulgent grin, "fourteen." 

"So Runaway is chock full of criminal masterminds and sadistic killers." 

"I take a little bit of offense to the word sadistic." Emily frowned. "Most of the people that we kill are also killers, they're corrupt and _they're_ sadistic. Being the best has allowed Miranda to choose only the _right_ clients." 

"Yeah, we don't take hits like so and so's husband has a big life insurance policy and she wants him killed. We're talking fascists, dictators..." Serena frowned, "try no to insult everyone who works here until you've at least been here 24 hours." 

"I... didn't mean it like that..." Andy offered a mollifying half smile. 

**

"She won't be ready in two weeks." Emily shook her head. "She spent all afternoon missing her targets."

"It was one afternoon." Miranda waved her hand dismissively. "You'll keep working with her and I'll work with her. She will be ready." 

"I'm going to have to agree with Emily, Miranda." Nigel interjected. "Two weeks is an awfully lofty goal. I'm not saying don't finish inducting her to Runaway but-"

Emily sneezed and Nigel and Miranda turned to look at her disdainfully. "Sorry." She mumbled under her breath as she wiped her nose with a tissue.

Nigel sighed and continued, "but what about sending Serena for the job. She's better with guns than Andy."

Miranda rolled her eyes, "you don't send a _smuggler_ in to do an assassin's job." 

Nigel stood up defensively, causing Miranda to do the same, "you're proposing sending a _journalist_ to do an assassin's job!" He spat.

Miranda slapped him and Nigel and Emily both held their breath. "I have had just about enough insubordination around here. Both of you are lucky that I'm feeling generous." 

"Is Andy worth this?" Nigel asked softly, "is she worth risking alienating two of your closest friends?"

Emily wiped her nose and watched to see Miranda's reaction. 

"Andrea is... she's..." Miranda pursed her lips and nodded, "Andrea is worth it." 

Nigel sighed, "when she gets herself killed just remember who pushed for this." 

"Just get out of my office." Miranda commanded quietly. 

Neither Nigel nor Emily were brave enough to tempt Miranda. They left the office quietly and closed the door behind them. Miranda rubbed her eyes and took her seat behind the desk. 

**

Andy and Miranda lay in bed. Miranda ran her fingers through Andy's long brown tresses as she listened to Andy's rhythmic breathing. 

Andy shifted to look up at Miranda, "do the twins know what you do?"

Miranda shook her head, her white forelock falling into her face without the assistance of hairspray. "I got into the business because my father was an alcoholic and I was placed in foster care when I was eight. When I was sixteen I broke out and I had to make a living. I want my girls' lives to be as uncomplicated as possible."

Andy nodded, "that's sweet. I'm sorry you had a rotten childhood." 

"Lots of people have worse than I did and I just made the best of a bad situation. I actually didn't intend to get pregnant, I didn't want to put a child in harm's way or risk not being able to be there for them, whether I got shot or arrested or whatever." 

Andy shrugged, "well, sure, maybe you're at a higher risk for being shot or arrested but no one can guarantee they won't die. No one can guarantee they'll always be around no matter how badly they want to." 

Miranda smiled. "I know. But I can promise that as long as I am able I will always be here." Miranda threaded her fingers through Andy's. 

Andy ducked her head shyly. "I'll always be here too. You know, as long as I'm able." 

Miranda leaned in and pressed her lips gently to Andy's. Fingers ran along Andy's shoulder as the kisses grew more insistent. Miranda held Andy against her body as they kissed, Andy's long lean form moving against Miranda. 

When the kiss broke apart they were both out of breath. Miranda grinned and leaned her forehead against Andy's. "Pull your gun on me." She whispered.

Andy furrowed her brow. "What?"

"You heard me." Miranda teased. 

Andy reached down for her gun and gasped when she didn't feel it. "Oh my god." The color drained from her face and she sat up. "It's not there... I... Miranda... holy shit..." 

Miranda held her hand out, palm up, and revealed the Smith and Wesson. 

Andy let out a sigh of relief and hid her face in the palm of her hand. "I'm really embarrassed..." 

"Eh, you shouldn't be," Miranda spun the gun on her right pointer finger. "I'm a world class pickpocket." 

"You are such a tease." Andy whispered. 

Miranda chuckled, "I don't just tease. I deliver too." 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah..." Miranda's eyes travelled over Andy's body and back to her eyes. 

"Put your money where your mouth is, Priestly." Andy grinned. 

"I have a better idea," Miranda said as she started to unbutton Andy's blouse. "How about I put my mouth where the 'money' is..." 

"That works, too..."


	4. Chapter 4

Miranda led Andy down to her basement. She pulled a key ring from her pocket and unlocked the first door and to unlock the inside door she used a key from a different key ring. "Precautionary measures." Miranda explained, "leave my keys lying around and the twins or the housekeeper could wander down here." 

Miranda closed and relocked both doors and walked up to a large closet which she unlocked and swung the doors open. Andy's jaw dropped when she saw the arsenal that Miranda revealed. Miranda smiled at the shining metal. "I love my Manolos and Prada and Versace but what I _really_ love are my Colts and Berettas and Magnums. Each and every one of these guns is beautiful and special. I've amassed this collection over a lifetime." 

"It's... impressive." Andy sputtered, still stunned. 

Miranda smiled and pulled a small black pistol off of the shelf. "This was my first. I bought it in a back alley from an ex-KGB agent looking to quickly unload his incriminating weaponry." 

Andy smiled, "this gun is from the KGB? That's... really cool actually." 

"All of these guns have their own history." Miranda tucked the gun into the holster at her waist and walked casually away from Andy, further into the room. "Pull your gun on me."

"What?" 

"You heard me. Your training doesn't stop until you're ready." Miranda stood with her back to Andy, "now. Pull your gun on me." 

Andy pulled her gun from her holster and Miranda turned around suddenly, grabbed Andy's wrist and forced her arm rigidly straight up into the air and Miranda pressed the muzzle of her gun into Andy's jawline. "Dead. Try it again." 

After ten more times of trying and failing to get the drop on Miranda, Miranda took Andy's gun from her hand and threw it across the room. "Are you even _trying_? Are you _stupid_?" 

"I'm not... stupid..." Andy pouted, feeling her eyes well up with tears.

" _No_." Miranda hissed, "don't _cry. Pull. your. gun. on me._ " 

Andy walked over slowly to retrieve the gun and once she had it in hand and turned around Miranda was standing in front of her. She slapped the gun out of her hand. Andy furrowed her brow and picked it up and again Miranda slapped it out of her hand. 

"Stop that." Andy frowned as she picked it up. 

Once more Miranda knocked it out of her hand, "do something about it." 

Andy picked up her gun and when she stood up and when Miranda reached up to knock the gun out of her hand again, she lashed out with her free hand and grabbed her wrist. Miranda reached up with her other hand to knock the gun away and Andy reached up and hit Miranda across the cheek with the muzzle of the gun. 

The air in the room was electric. Andy's mouth was open in shock and fear. "Miranda... I..." 

Miranda reached up and touched her cheek, wiped the corner of her mouth. Finally, she smiled. "That is much more like it, Andrea." Miranda cocked the hammer, "I've still got the drop on you but it is _much_ more like it. Let's keep practicing." 

"Miranda, of course I can't get the drop on _you_ , for christ's sake, you've been doing this shit since you were a teenager." Andy huffed, "it's not as if whoever it is you want me to kill is going to be as skilled as you."

"Never make that assumption." Miranda shook her head. "That is a quick way to end up in a body bag, Andrea." 

"Do you think I can be a good assassin?" Andy asked softly. "Do you think I'll be ready?"

Miranda nodded, "I do." She said softly. She cupped Andy's cheeks and kissed her softly, "I think you can do anything you put your mind to, darling. You are so motivated and so intelligent. _You_ can do _anything_." 

Andy kissed Miranda harder, pulling her closer. "I'm sorry I hit you," she said breathlessly between kisses. 

"I've had worse," Miranda grinned against Andy, her hands rubbing her ass and lower back. 

Andy pulled back, suddenly more concerned with her curiousity than with her libido. "Have you been shot?"

"Of course." Miranda nodded. "Three times, in fact." 

"So, someone can get shot and _live_."

Miranda nodded again, "if they're lucky." 

"What's it... like?" Andy asked apprehensively, "being shot?" 

"The first time I was shot was in England and I was running from the police. I got clipped in the shoulder, it was a through and through and I ran all the way home before I even realized I'd been shot." 

"It didn't hurt?"

"Not at first. I was so pumped up with adrenaline that someone had to point out to me that I was bleeding and then we realized that there was a hole in my shoulder. We disinfected it and wrapped it up and hoped for the best. I left London a week after that." 

"Do you have a scar?"

"I was eighteen, my body was still pretty resilient and I've used a lot of scar removal creams and they've done a pretty good job." 

"Where else did you get shot?"

"Are we playing twenty questions now?" Miranda teased, "I got shot in the hip and I had a bullet graze my ribs on my left side." 

"That's so badass." Andy grinned, "and Lily thought that she was dating the biggest badass in the group because her boyfriend has a nose ring and smokes pot." 

Miranda laughed, "well, I'm happy that you feel like you won that competition, but you'll have to keep it to yourself. Otherwise I may have have your friends killed."

Miranda had sounded playful but Andy was pretty sure she was serious. She certainly didn't want the chance to find out. "Hey, of course not, my lips are sealed about all of this." Andy held up her gun, "I'd be implicated, too, right?"

"Not yet, but soon."

**

The next morning, Miranda got up early to put on a pot of coffee and await the girls' arrival. At 9:13 they let themselves in and Lucas waved hi and bye from the doorway before leaving again. The girls ran up to their mother, excitedly telling her about their week with their father.

"Girls," Miranda said softly, putting a hand on their shoulders. "Let's keep it down, Andrea is still asleep upstairs. Let's go into the kitchen and I'll make you hot chocolate and you can tell me all about your week."

"With marshmallows?" Cassidy gasped excitedly.

"Well, it would hardly be hot chocolate without marshmallows!" Miranda grinned. 

The girls dropped their backpacks and ran into the kitchen and Miranda followed behind them. She pulled the milk out and put enough for two cups of cocoa into a saucepan and left it to boil. 

"So, ladies, tell me about your week." 

They launched into twin tales of their adventures at their father's Upper West penthouse apartment and their woeful accounts of how boring and pointless school was. Cassidy was halfway through the recounting of a story of their math teacher denying her a bathroom break during a test when Andy entered the kitchen. 

"Andy!" Caroline exclaimed with a smile. 

"Hey kiddos." Andy approached and gave each twin a hug. "You should've woken me," she said to Miranda, "do I smell cocoa?"

"Alas, the girls took it all. You'll have to settle for coffee, there should be plenty left." Miranda held out her mug, "and be a dear and get me a refill?" 

Andy took the mug and kissed Miranda's forehead, "only because you asked so nicely."

"So Paris fashion week next week, huh mom?" Caroline grinned slowly. 

"Conveniently corresponding with our half-week so we'd only miss two and a half days of school." Cassidy said. 

"Yeah, and it's not like teachers actually teach anything on half days." 

"Oh, nice try." Miranda smirked. Andy set the mug in front of her girlfriend, Miranda slipped her fingers around the handle and said, "thank you." 

"Please, mom? Andy's going!" 

Andy snorted a laugh, "I think it's a little different." 

Cassidy pouted. 

"Andrea works for me, Cassidy. Perhaps in a few years you would like to take a job as my assistant and then I can take you to fashion week?"

Cassidy looked skeptically at Miranda and then at Andy, then back to Miranda, "no... I don't think being your assistant would be fun..." 

"It's not like I've never taken you to Paris." Miranda put a hand over the girls,' "I'll take you to Paris for Spring break, we can eat ice cream under the Champs Elysee, how does that sound?"

The girls pouted. 

"And we can walk into all the shops and strike fear in the shopkeeper's hearts. How about that?" The girls couldn't help but smile. "My sociopathic little monsters," she leaned down and kissed their hands. 

The girls giggled and squirmed. "Andy are you staying to hang out with us today?" 

Andy opened her mouth to answer but Miranda put a hand on her back, "no, Andrea has to go practice her Paris duties so she'll be prepared." 

"Tough break," Caroline laughed. 

"Which reminds me, though, that you girls haven't practiced piano or violin while you were at your father's." Miranda said pointedly. The girls groaned and Miranda continued, "need I remind you that musical instruments were your idea?"

"No... we remember... it's just... it's hard, you know..." Caroline said, kicking the table leg. 

"When I was your age I wish that I'd been able to learn how to play the violin. I think it's the most beautiful instrument." Miranda waxed reminiscent. 

_Instead she learned to play the AK47._ Andy thought to herself. Andy caught sight of the clock on the microwave, "oh, I have to get moving, I'm meeting Emily in half an hour." Andy exclaimed, getting up from the seat, she kissed Miranda on the lips, kissed each twin on the head, "I'll be back tonight. Maybe you can play your instruments for me."

"Or we can watch a movie!" Cassidy grinned. 

"Yeah, we'll see." Andy winked at Cassidy. 

**

"Andy, would you focus?" Emily demanded with aggravation. 

"I'm _sorry_." Andy snapped, "I'm just a little sore. Miranda and I spent all last night-"

Emily held up a hand and stared at Andy with a look of horror. "I do _not_ want to hear you finish that sentence." 

"Oh, get off it." Andy rolled her eyes, "she made me practice pulling my gun on her for _hours_ and she knocked me on my ass more times than I'd like to admit, squeezing my wrists, pushing it behind me and sticking her gun into my chest and my chin. If I wasn't pretty sure we were on the same side I'd be pretty damn worried." 

"If I were you I would be worried anyway." Emily gave Andy a shove back towards the half wall. "I can promise you that any target you may have to face will be around Miranda's skill level." 

"Really? I thought she was, like... the be all end all of criminal mastery..." Andy looked nervous.

"Oh, she's diabolical, for sure." Emily shrugged, "and she's certainly got the best head for business that I've ever known but she hasn't been out in the field for probably twenty years." 

"I'm so screwed." Andy muttered with despair.

Emily sighed, "you've still got nine days before Paris. Believe me, when it's life or death you learn it really quickly. You're not taking it as seriously right now because you don't think Miranda nor I will actually _shoot_ you, but let's pretend I might."

"So, you want me to pull my gun on you?"

"Give it a try." Emily smirked. 

Andy pulled her gun out of her holster and pointed it at Emily, Emily grabbed her wrist with one hand, pushing the gun out to the side and elbowing her in chest. 

"Emily!" Andy sputtered. 

"Life or death, Andy. Either you kill me or I kill you." Emily snarled as she pushed her back until they hit the wall. Andy gasped again. Andy tried to pull her hand away from Emily. "You have a free hand!"

Andy grit her teeth and grabbed Emily by the hair, yanking her head back. Emily grunted and pushed her forearm into Andy's ribs just under her breasts. Andy groaned and hooked a foot behind Emily's leg and they toppled to the ground with a thud. Andy lifted her arm that was being clutched by Emily and slammed it down into the concrete so Emily's hand would take the brunt of the impact. Emily hissed, providing Andy the millisecond she needed to get ger gun hand free. She straddled Emily's hips, sitting up and pointing the gun at Emily's chest. 

Emily panted and snorted. "Not bad." 

Andy's breath was ragged from the adrenaline and exertion but she grinned triumphantly. 

"Now get off me, I think I'm going to vomit." 

"Oh, sorry." Andy climbed up and offered a hand which Emily smacked away. 

Emily stood up and brushed herself off and took a deep breath. "Okay, the nausea has passed." 

"Emily, that was cool, that was exhilerating. Did you let me win?" Andy was still abuzz. 

Emily scoffed and sneered. "No, I didn't." She coughed and then groaned. "Andy, the common cold is evidence that God is malevolent and he hates us all."

"Want me to get you some cough drops?"

"No, what I want you to do is get really good at aiming and shooting so I can go home and soak in the bath." Emily gestured pointedly to the range.


	5. Chapter 5

The morning of their flight to Paris Andy met Miranda on the stoop of the townhouse. Miranda stepped out with her rolling bag and large carry-on. Andy held her hands out for them and Miranda transfered them to her first assistant. 

Andy's heart was pounding and she smiled nervously at Miranda. "Emily's cold is probably just about gone, there's still time to change your mind." 

Miranda smiled indulgently and kissed Andy sweetly. Roy looked the other way as he waited for the women. Miranda nuzzled Andy and whispered, "stop doubting yourself. You'll be great." 

Andy smiled weakly and wished she believed it. 

The flight was long and Andy felt anxious. Miranda gave dictation and rearranged her schedule four times before the six hour flight was over and seemed not to notice how jittery Andy was. 

It was just about seven when they stepped out of the airport and were picked up by the car. Night had fallen and the whole city was sparkling against the black sky. Andy smiled despite herself as they passed the glittery sights she'd only seen in pictures and romantic comedies. 

Miranda glanced up every now and then but her attention was glued to the Blackberry in her hand. 

They checked into the hotel and rode up silently in the elevator. "You have your own room," Miranda said as she stepped out of the elevator and strode confidently toward her regular suite. "Though, you should feel free to share my bed." 

**

Andy trudged dutifully through fashion week. It astounded her how calm Miranda could be despite the fact that someone was picking off her assassins and clearly had a grudge against her. Didn't Miranda feel like a sitting duck? Didn't she jump at every noise? Maybe Andy was projecting. 

At the end of third day Miranda called Andy to her. When Andy entered the suite she saw that Miranda had been crying. She stopped in her tracks before proceeding closer. Miranda pulled an envelope out of the pocket in her robe, "this is your target." 

Andy tucked the envelope in her jacket, she knew better than to open it in front of Miranda. She nodded with purpose and turned to leave. 

As the door closed behind Andy, Miranda felt tears slide down her cheeks anew. She didn't think that it should feel so wrong, she knew that she shouldn't ever have gotten attached to either of them. One of them wouldn't survive their meeting and, in a way, Miranda wasn't sure which one would she'd prefer. 

Perhaps it would be poetic justice if Helena caught up with her and dispatched with her. Miranda had been the one to break her promise, after all. A silencer pressed to her breast, Helena's lips pressed to her own and in a second it would be over. Maybe that was the best way out, maybe that was the best case scenario. 

**

Andy stepped out into the street. She wrapped her jacket tightly around her and peeked into the envelope. It contained a picture and places where Andy might find her target. She looked at the picture for a few long minutes. The woman looked to be around Miranda's age, probably a little older, she had white hair and she looked like she might be someone's grandmother. Andy scrutinized the face, looking for any hints of malice she could. 

She picked up the phone and called Nigel. 

"Make it quick, Six." Nigel instructed as he picked up. 

Andy could hear music and laughter in the background. "Uh, well, Miranda gave me the envelope and... it's an old woman. Is that _right_?" 

"First rule of fight club is don't talk about fight club."

"Nigel, are you drunk?"

Nigel sighed, "sweetie, I'm trying to make a point. We don't talk about it. Got it?" 

"Okay, yeah, but real quick." Andy insisted, "is this right? Did Miranda give me the right picture?"

"If she gave you the picture, it must be right. Miranda is never wrong. Even if she is wrong, just pop the old lady and take your whacks." Nigel said impatiently and hung up. 

Andy stared at the phone in shock before slipping it back into her pocket. "Didn't even wish me good luck." Andy grumbled as she headed toward the first destination on her list. 

La Casbah was dark and crowded when she arrived. French was audible over the loud music and beer and mixed drinks were being passed through the bar. Andy walked through, looking around discreetly. 

Helena sipped her white Russian as she watched Andy from the corner. She pegged her immediately as someone Miranda had sent. She looked ridiculously out of place and more than a little lost. Helena downed the rest of the drink and dropped a few euros on the bar. 

Helena stood up and crossed the bar, making sure to get Andy's attention but not passing too close to her. Andy's heart nearly stopped when she saw her. Helena slipped through the door to the basement and Andy hastily followed. 

Andy crept through the basement. She gripped the handle of her gun and took a deep breath as she inched along the wall in the dark space. 

Suddenly she felt someone grab her by the ponytail, yank her head back and press the barrel of a gun to the underside of her throat. A voice that was as smooth as silk whispered in her ear, "figures she'd send someone after me. Would it kill her to just talk to me? Instead am I supposed to kill you?" 

"I guess so?" Andy laughed nervously, "I don't know I'm kind of new at this. Maybe you're supposed to let me go." 

"Cheeky little tart, aren't you?" Helena laughed. "You'll take me to Miranda." 

Andy shook her head tightly, "no, I won't." 

"Don't be _stupid_ ," Helena hissed, "I know where she is, she's the most predictable woman in Paris. Prissy diva staying in the Coco Chanel suite at the Ritz. Every fucking year same damn suite. The only outcome of you not taking me to the Ritz is you get a bullet through your pretty face."

"And if I take you to the Ritz?" Andy asked hesitantly after a few moments. 

"Then maybe I don't kill you." Helena grinned, "that's up to Miranda." 

**

Miranda was laying on the chaise in her suite when the knock came on the door. She looked towards it, "yes?" She asked with annoyance.

"Uh, it's me. It's Andy."

"Use your key." Miranda sat up, her body filled with relief to hear Andy's voice. 

The door buzzed and swung open. Andy stepped in first and Helena was on her heel as the door closed behind them. The muzzle of Helena's revolver was pressing painfully into Andy's spine. 

Miranda jumped up with a gasp when she saw Helena and pulled a pistol from her pocket and pointed it at Helena's head. In one swift movement Helena caught Andy around the neck with her left arm and pointed the gun at Miranda. 

"No!" Andy squeaked. 

Helena's lip curled into a sly grin. "She's more concerned about you than about herself." 

Miranda's lip curled into a growl. "Let her go, Helena, this isn't about her, this is about me."

"And _you_ are more concerned about her than yourself." Helena said slowly, "this intrigues me."

" _Let her go_." Miranda repeated with ire, cocking the hammer. 

"You might shoot me but you'd never do it fast enough to save her, I can promise you. Just _listen_ to me a minute." Helena spat. 

"We have nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit. If you didn't give a damn about me anymore you wouldn't have sent someone to kill me." Helena accused, "and if you weren't desperate you wouldn't have sent someone as green as this girl after me." 

"If you hadn't taken out _five_ of my girls I wouldn't have had to send her after you." 

"If you had kept your fucking promise we wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have _had_ to kill your girls, would I? And I wouldn't have to kill this one now." Helena moved the gun to press it to Andy's temple. 

"I love you, Miranda." Andy squeezed her eyes shut, tears rolling down her cheeks. 

"Shoot her and you'll regret it." 

"I shouldn't think that I will." Helena almost laughed, "what would you do? Shoot me? Nothing would be more painful than when you left me!" 

"I didn't want to leave you!" Miranda cried, tears escaping from her eyes. "I wanted you to come with me!" 

"Bullshit! You wanted a clean break! You couldn't get out of here fast enough. You used me to get out of that home, you used me to start up your business and then you got the hell outta dodge." Helena frowned, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "You were the love of my life!" 

" _Helena, stop it_!" Miranda shrieked.

"You selfish cow, I loved you so much." Helena whispered, "and I've never loved anybody since." 

"It was never my intention to hurt you, Helena." Miranda took a step closer. Helena tightened her grip on Andy's neck. Andy choked and coughed. Miranda stopped moving, "it wasn't even my intention to get back into the business in America but... I couldn't help myself."

"You couldn't help yourself. Do you mean with getting back into the business or seducing your pretty, young thang?" Helena turned her head so that her lips were against Andy's cheek, and she repeated in a whisper, "you just couldn't help yourself..."

"Andrea, go back to your room." Miranda snapped, "Helena, let her go, if you don't like what I have to say you can always kill her later." 

Helena paused to consider Miranda's proposal and released Andy with a shove toward the door. "Don't think about trying to shoot me or I'll drop Miranda so fast the bullet won't have time to leave the chamber of your gun."

"Andrea, _go_." Miranda ordered menacingly. 

Andy wiped at her eyes, cast Miranda a long sad look before hurrying out of the suite and rushing down the hall to her room. 

"Now," Miranda said slowly to Helena, "what do you say we open a bottle of Pinot and discuss this like a couple of sensible old assassins?" 

Helena smirked and holstered her gun at her side. "Alright." 

Miranda lowered her gun and uncocked the hammer. "I loved you too, you know. It wasn't only hard for you. I lost my home, my livelihood, my lover and my best friend all in one fell swoop." 

"No one forced you to leave." Helena pouted as she watched Miranda pour the wine.

"I got _shot_." Miranda looked up at Helena with annoyance but she held out a glass to her. 

Helena snorted, accepting the wine. "If I had let one little police shoot out deter me I would have-" 

Miranda cut her off. "You might still have me, for starters." 

"Well, it's about thirty years late, but at the amount it appears that I do have you." Helena leaned forward towards Miranda and pressed her lips against hers. Miranda inhaled sharply, startled by the sudden intimiate contact and by the familiar warm feeling of kissing Helena. 

Miranda moaned softly into the kiss. 

Miranda pulled back and wiped tears from her tired eyes. "I love _her_ , too. It's the first time I've really been in love since... since... well, you." 

Helena sat down on the couch and sipped her wine, "well, Miriam, I'll give you a chance to prove how strong your love is." 

Miranda pursed her lips. "Just what do you have in mind?" 

"It's pretty simple," Helena set the wine glass on the side table and leaned back on the couch. "You dump her or I kill her." 

**

The sharp knock on the door jarred Andy out of the fitful sleep she'd fallen into. She stood up with a groan and the previous night's events came flooding back. "Miranda!" She gasped, rushing toward the door. 

She threw open the door and Miranda stood there. "Oh my god, you're okay!" Andy threw her arms around Miranda and pulled her tight, "I was so worried about you." 

Miranda snifflled and reached up to wipe at her left eye. "Andrea, we need to talk."

Andy pulled back and scrutinized her lover's face. "Miranda, what's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?" 

"Andrea, darling," Miranda said, taking Andy's hands, "last night only served to prove to me that I can't protect you. As long as you're with me it'll be dangerous for you. I believe you would rather put yourself in harm's way than face up to what we both know is the right thing for you." 

Andy's eyes were wet with tears, "Miranda, what are you saying?" 

"Andrea," Miranda looked up from Andy's hands to look her in the eye. "We can't keep seeing each other and you can't keep working for me." 

"No..." Andy croaked, tears flowing down her cheeks, through the foundation she never took off.

Miranda leaned her forehead against Andy's and squeezed her eyes shut to avoid crying harder. "I'll write you a recommendation to the Times." She whispered. She opened her eyes and looked into Andy's pained eyes, she reached up and stroked the soft brown hair. "And send this dress down to be pressed before you go."


	6. Chapter 6

Andy changed out of her dress and crumpled it up and threw it in the corner disdainfully. Who the hell could give a fuck about a $2,000 Dolce & Gabbana at a time like this? She changed into the comfortable clothes she'd smuggled on the trip. Her stretch yoga pants and a tank top and sweatshirt she'd bought on clearance at Filene's Basement. 

She considered going right down to the buffet and eating carbs out of spite but felt that she might throw up so she just walked out of the hotel and randomly down the street. She stopped at an ornate fountain and pulled herself up to sit on the side. 

She looked in at all the Euros that had been thrown in, spent on wishes that may or may not have come true. 

When Andy looked back up she saw Nigel standing there. She pouted, "how'd you find me?" 

Nigel shrugged his shoulders, "it's one of the things I'm good at... Miranda told me she fired you." 

"If you're here to demand my silence, don't worry. I'm not going to go to the police or anything. I'm not even sure I ever plan to move..." Andy dipped her hand into the fountain. 

"Aw, sweetie," Nigel sat down next to her and put an arm around her. "I know that heartbreak is really hard when you're young."

"It's not just because I'm young. It's because my heart is broken." Andy frowned, "this would hurt just as bad at any age." 

"Yeah, well, no." Nigel shook his head, "the older you get, the more heartbreaks you get under your belt and the less they sting. It'll hurt, it'll hurt for a long time. You'll move on, both professionally and emotionally -- and you probably won't get shot." 

"I'd rather get shot." Andy grumbled. 

"Come on," he hopped down off the wall and pulled Andy with him, "let's go get some mimosas and bitch about femmes." 

Andy groaned and frowned but let Nigel pull her along toward a cafe. 

**

"Try not to look so upset, you just saved her life. You should be happy." Helena laughed. 

Miranda stood by the window, watching the streets forlornly. "I'm happy she's alive, of course." Miranda sighed. 

"You said yourself that it didn't concern her. She doesn't belong in this world and you belong with someone who understands you and what you do. Does she know how many people you personally shot? How many deaths you are directly responsible for?" 

Miranda let go of the curtain, letting it fall closed. She turned around and shook her head, "no, she doesn't really know." 

"People like Andrea are all the same, Miriam. They think they can love you but when they see who you _are_ it will repulse them because our work doesn't fit into their idea of morality." Helena insisted, "sometimes you need an outsider to show you when a relationship is doomed to fail." 

Miranda sighed and turned toward her bedroom. "I have to go to a preview and a press party and then another preview... but afterwards, why don't we get dinner?"

"Just the two of us?"

"I don't really enjoy much privacy during Fashion Week but I'm not extending an invitation to anyone else, if that's what you mean." 

Helena smiled, "I'd love to join you for dinner." She wrapped an arm around Miranda, "I've missed you so much. I'm glad that this transition seems easy enough for you." 

Miranda shrugged, "easy, what's easy? _Necessary_ is another story. Speaking of necessary, the name is _Miranda_ and if you don't stop calling me Miriam I will be forced to shoot you." 

"How about a compromise? How about I just call you M?" 

"Shall I call you Spider, then?" Miranda teased. 

Helena nodded, "if you like." 

"Are you staying in Paris?" Miranda asked as she stepped into the bedroom and dropped the robe. 

"Never twice in the same place." Helena smirked. "Name the time and the restaurant and I'll be there." 

"Grand Vefour. Ten o' clock." Miranda reemerged from the bedroom dressed in a 'caramel camel' Fendi draped wool sweater dress. On her feet she wore a pair of suede Jimmy Choo boots. "If I'm not there when you get there, just wait, I'll be there." 

"M... I can't believe how good you look." 

Miranda flipped her white forelock back flippantly. "There will be ample time for grovelling later, for now I have to acquaint myself with my own schedule which may prove to be lengthier than the day itself." 

Helena grinned and leaned in to kiss Miranda. You could take the girl out of England but the need to _keep calm and carry on_ was in the blood of everyone born on British soil. 

**

Nigel was seated at the preview already when Miranda graced the room with her presence. "You're late." Nigel whispered accusingly. 

"I'm important." Miranda smirked, "they'll wait." 

"Late because you didn't have the address of the building because you couldn't be bothered with such trivial details and you fired Andy?" 

"I looked everywhere for the address! I finally had to call Emily." Miranda pouted, "Emily, of course, offered to be on the next plane to Paris but I talked her out of it." 

"You threatened her with death."

"Is there any other way to deter Emily? She's like a terrier once she gets an idea in her head!" 

Nigel snorted a laugh, imaging their mutual friend running around in circles and nipping at Miranda's heels with excitement. "You know we're going have to talk about Andy." 

"This is neither the time nor the place." Miranda crossed her legs and folded her hands across her lap. 

When the preview ended all the present fashion editors and directors were interviewed by reporters from five different countries and Nigel got swept up by the crowd. When he broke free and looked around for Miranda he was annoyed by not being able to find her. 

At the lunch Miranda did another spectacular job of avoiding Nigel. She made sure that she was never more than two feet away from someone who neither of them would like to overhear their incriminating conversation. 

Nigel resolved that he'd ride with her to the next preview once the lunch ended but much to his chagrin, Miranda pulled another disappearing act. It shouldn't surprise him, she was a master escape artist but he'd hoped that she'd have the gumption to stay and talk to him. 

The next preview and runway show took them well into the evening, the press party gave way to a lively cocktail party. Nigel caught the eye of Jacques Pluot, the dashingly made up new fashion director from French Vogue. He was dressed to the nines in a divinely tailored Hugo Boss blazer with a turquoise Versace turtleneck and pressed black pants. Nigel had the distinct feeling that he was falling love and if his shoes... black Ferregamo loafers made from real Italian leather. 

Nigel _was_ in love. 

Nigel smiled at Jacques who smiled back and Nigel hoped that his French and Jacques's English were good enough not to present too much of a language barrier. Nigel motioned to a table and Jacques grinned and nodded, excusing himself from the people he'd been standing with. 

Of course Nigel felt sympathetic toward Andy, but not nearly enough to pass up an opportunity to cozy up the only man who was more stylish than he. 

**

Miranda arrived at the restaurant at a quarter past ten and Helena rose from her chair to greet her. They kissed each other's cheeks and took their seats. "Concealed weapons?" Helena asked. 

"Three. You?" Miranda spread the napkin out on her lap. 

"Two pistols and a switch blade." Helena poured wine into Miranda's glass. "I ordered a wine."

"Chateau Carbonnieux Pessac-Leognan," Miranda said as she lifted the bottle to inspect it. "Good vintage." 

"When was the last time you killed someone?"

"I didn't come here to talk business." Miranda sipped her wine.

"Indulge me. I'm curious." 

Miranda paused to think and gave a shrug, "five years ago? Give or take."

"How long exactly did you go straight before you started your multi-billion dollar murder for hire industry?" 

Miranda grinned and shook her head, "I went ... straight professionally for two years and I started climbing the ladder at Runway and I had a lot of head room to... do as I pleased." 

Helena nodded, "and sexually?" 

Miranda laughed, "and sexually I went straight for about twenty years. Men are easier to use than women because even now they have more clout than women. Proportionally, of course. I have more power than 96% of men and 99% of women. I have no further need to pretend I'm interested in men and their pointless, meaningless problems." 

"And that is where the charming young Andrea comes in." 

"I won't discuss Andrea with you." 

Helena smirked, "oh, don't close up on me _now_." 

Miranda snorted, "I don't take too kindly when people I l-" she stopped herself and took a deep breath, "when people that I care about are threatened with bodily harm." 

"You could just take me out." Helena shrugged. 

"Did you not just hear me?" Miranda frowned, "I don't take kindly to the idea of people I care about being shot." 

Helena laughed out loud, "you sent Andrea to shoot me!" 

"I was very angry at you. I'm still angry, those three girls were very promising and not just as assassins, but as models and as intelligent members of society." 

"They were just Russian peasants." Helena scoffed. 

"They weren't." Miranda pursed her lips, "they were talented young girls with marketable skills who deserved a chance to have a life." 

"Sounds like you have a little bit of a savior complex. You identify with the girls, that's dangerous, love." 

"I don't identify with them." Miranda sneered at the insinuation. "I know that if someone was in a position to help out one of my daughters I would hope that they would. Better I recruit these girls than they become prostitutes or Russian brides or get lost in a system that doesn't care." 

"You're like a good will ambassador, aren't you?" 

Miranda sat back in her seat. "I won't sit here and I be patronized." 

"I'm not patronizing you... alright, I suppose I'm patronizing you a bit. But, come on," she smiled. "You're an assassin, sweetie: if one life is precious, it's all precious. If you're willing to send your girls to murder someone in cold blood -- _which is what it is_ \-- then you have to take it with a grain of salt if they get popped." 

Miranda pursed her lips, "are we done with the interrogation now?"

Helena shrugged, "I've got one last question."

"Fine." Miranda sipped her wine. 

"You said you loved me?"

"How can you think I didn't?"

**

The next morning Nigel felt like a new man. He'd said adieu to his new beau, though neither of them wanted to, there was work to be done on both of their parts. 

Nigel absolutely had to get to Miranda this morning and demand that she explain, knowing full well it violated the first rule of La Priestly: never ask questions. As one of her only friends, as her fashion directer, as her recruiter, he was allowed some leeway when it came to the rules. 

He had pick pocketed a maid he passed in the hallway and lifted her pass card. He planned to catch Miranda by surprise since she'd gone through so much trouble to ellude him the day before. 

The door beeped and as he entered the suite Miranda rounded the corner out the bedroom, body wrapped in the silk bathrobe and gun drawn. 

"Hold up, it's just me." Nigel held his hands up. 

"Nigel? What are you doing?" Miranda furrowed her brow, not lowering her gun. 

Helena hurried out of the bedroom to join Miranda, gun pointed with one hand and buttoning up her blouse with the other hand. "You know him?"

"Yeah..." Miranda frowned, "Nigel, toss your gun on the floor. Fingertips." 

Nigel pulled his gun from his pocket with the tips of his fingers and dropped it to the plush carpet. 

"What the hell are you thinking?" Miranda demanded, tucking her gun into her pocket. "Are you suicidal?" 

Nigel sighed and laughed nervously, "just wanted to talk to you, uh, about recent events." He glanced over at Helena, "but I guess the mystery's solved as to why you broke up with Andy."


	7. Chapter 7

"Helena," Miranda scolded, putting her hand on Helena's gun and pushing her hand down. She looked at Nigel, "get out and don't ever let yourself into my space like that again or I will _shoot_ you. Clear?"

"As glass." Nigel nodded. 

He moved to pick up his gun when he heard Miranda's hammer cock. As he looked up he was staring down the barrel at his friend. "You'll get that back later." 

Nigel nodded obediently and took off for the door, not looking back as the door shut behind him. Nigel felt naked as he walked away from the suite without his gun. When he met up with Andy he found her at the same cafe that he'd left her in the day before. 

"You didn't sleep here, did you?" He furrowed his brow. 

"No." Andy smirked, "I crashed on Christian Thompson's couch last night." 

"Uh-oh. If he made a move on you Miranda will shoot him. And she'll probably do it with _my_ gun." He frowned. 

"No, Christian wasn't even there. He gave me the key at the party and then he spent the night at someone else's room." Andy shrugged. "I just wanted to get out of the Ritz, you know? I just wanted to be away from Miranda for a while." 

Nigel nodded. "What's the verdict on your flight?"

"She didn't cancel it or change it -- so, it's still right next to her... so obviously I bought myself a coach ticket. You can tell her that Helena can have my spot." 

"So you know about...?" Nigel bit his lip. 

Andy nodded, "how can the new kid on the block compete with the woman she grew up with, who she went through hell with... her first love? I can't compete with that, Helena will always come out on top."

Nigel snorted, "I can't imagine getting back together with my first love. There was a reason why we broke up and comparatively it wasn't that good. Maybe for women it's different but virgin sex with a penis is pretty awkward." 

Andy laughed at that. "I guess it would be." 

"Okay, okay. No need to hate on penises." 

She smiled at him. "You might need to help shephard Miranda toward the airport. Who knows if she'll remember when her flight is. And here," she pulled a dramamine out of her purse, "she didn't get airsick on the way over but give her this in case she gets airsick on the way home." 

"You keep that. Take it and sleep through the whole flight. Might do you some good. And throwing up in an airline bathroom might do Miranda some good." 

**

Miranda's flight was miserable. She could scarcely concentrate on the pile of work in front of her. Helena had opted to visit the United States, figuring that some sort of vacation was probably in order and since she'd never been. 

Miranda felt sick -- not because of the plane but because she'd heard that Andy accepted a room key from Christian Thompson. ... _Christian Thompson_.

She knew --in the pit of her stomach-- that she had no right to be mad but it didn't really stop her. 

Nigel sat across from Miranda and Helena knowing full well that Miranda was being eaten alive by jealousy but decided he was going to let her suffer. 

**

When the flight landed Miranda walked out of the airport without her bags because her assistant usually took care of such frivolities as baggage claiming and had to walk back into the airport. 

By the time she and Helena arrived at the townhouse Miranda was in such a foul mood that she had to shoot something. She certainly wasn't going to go back to one of the warehouses so she set off looking for something in the house that she wanted to shoot. 

Finally, she took Cassidy's Joe Jonas poster off the wall, vowing to replace it before Lucas dropped the girls off in a couple of days. 

Helena watched her skulk around and admired the townhouse at the same time. 

Miranda let them into the basement were she propped the Joe Jonas poster up on a replica King George wingback chair. She opened the cabinet to try to decide which gun would be most gratifying to unload into the unsuspecting poster. 

Miranda finally pulled out a Schmidt M1882, checked the barrels and flipped it shut again. She aimed at the chair and right before she was about to pull the trigger Helena laughed. 

"What?" Miranda frowned, turning to look at her. 

"It's just that you haven't changed a bit." Helena laughed. 

"More than I can say about you." Miranda smirked, pulling Helena's passport out of her jacket pocket. 

Helena's jaw dropped and she patted down her pockets, "when did you take that?" 

"Suzanne Butler. Born 1960." Miranda scoffed, "weighing in at 118." Miranda looked over at Helena and raised her eyebrows questioningly. 

"Alright." Helena scowled and snatched back the passport. "Like you never lied about your age or your weight."

"I haven't actually. I am a 52-year-old woman and I weigh 131 pounds and I wear a size four dress." 

"Yeah, you're an open book." 

"Are you going to let me shoot this teen dream in the face or are you going to continue with the running commentary?"

Helena pursed her lips and gestured to the poster. 

Miranda grinned and cocked the hammer, squeezing the trigger repeatedly even after the hammer clicked against the empty chamber. Miranda smiled serenely and tucked the revolver into her pocket. 

Helena smiled. "I see you haven't lost your touch." There was a bullet hole in each eye, one between the eyes, both front teeth and one in the neck. "I don't suppose the girls have a Hannah Montana poster up there?" 

Miranda laughed as she put away the Schmidt, "we could always pick one up when I replace this one." 

**

Emily had almost completely beaten her abominable cold. She was wrapped in a terrycloth bathrobe -- a gift from her sister which she normally snubbed in favor of more fashionable nightwear but came in handy when she was all alone and not feeling well. She'd taken six cough drops, a tylenol pm and drank two cups of rooibos tea and passed out on the couch. 

She was awoken by an insistent knock on the front door. She groaned and pushed herself up off the cushions, grimacing at the drool stain. She stuck her hand in her pocket and gripped the gun as she looked through the peephole. 

She took the chain off and opened the door, "Andy, what the hell are you doing here?" 

"I need you to teach me. I need you to teach me _everything_. I am going to take Helena down if it is the last thing I ever do." 

"Why come to me?" Emily pursed her lips, "my loyalties are to Miranda and we've never gotten along." 

"I don't care if I get my Runway job back or not but I care about getting Miranda back. But Helena is bad for Miranda; she's poison. And it's in your best interest to help me take down Helena."


	8. Chapter 8

Emily was feeling mostly, if not completely, better. Andy was _lucky_ that her interruption the night before hadn't hindered Emily's convalescence. She was dressed in a tight black Fendi slacks with a cerulean blouse from Gucci and a pair of Prada leopard print peep toed pumps as she and Andy rode up in the elevator to Serena's apartment. 

Andy was surprised by the buidling. She'd expected to find Serena living in an immaculate modernly decorated Penthouse apartment with a successful but derisive young corporate attorney. The building that Serena actually lived in was in a converted factory building -- well, at least Andy hoped it had been converted, though she wouldn't stake her life on it. The elevator creaked and shook as they rode up. Andy was nervous, Emily looked bored. When it clanged to the top and opened with an earsplitting metal-against-metal cry they stepped out into a hallway that looked just as derelict and dilapidated as the rest of the buidling: exposed beams, peeling wallpaper, rusting metal infrastructure. At the end of the hallway was a door with a large _9_ nailed to it. Andy found this strange considering she hadn't seen numbers one through eight anywhere. 

Emily knocked three times on the door and then after a pause once more. 

After a few long moments Serena opened the door wearing only an oversized Chanel tee shirt, a pair of bikini cut underwear and an expression of confusion. 

"I see you're still alive. I suppose congratulations are in order." Serena smirked, looking Andy up and down. "But I can't imagine that's why you're here." 

"It's not." Emily shook her head, "let us in, we brought lattes."

Andy held up the tray encouragingly and Serena shrugged and stood aside. 

In stark contrast to the rest of the building, Serena's apartment was finished and was obviously well loved. It was decorated in cool, natural colors and was certainly not lacking in the plush furniture department. 

Serena disappeared into a room in the back and returned wearing a pair of Alexander McQueen skinny jeans and a Dolce and Gabbana blouse. Andy was jealous of Serena and Emily's ability to look stunning in sixty seconds or less -- in fact the only person who could put them to shame was Miranda whose record was thirty two seconds to presentable while Andy still struggled to get her shirt rightside out. 

Serena pulled a latte from the tray sipped and sat down, "alright, what is this all about?" 

"Well, it seems that Miranda has brought back some undeclared baggage." Emily smirked.

"She smuggled? Without me?" Serena looked somewhat hurt. "What is it that she smuggled?"

"Not so much a _what_ as a _who_." Emily drawled, "Andy says her name is Helena and she and Miranda obviously have a history." 

"Miranda's letting her emotions cloud her judgment, she's being overly sentimental... she had a relationship with Helena and she seems to trust her but she shouldn't." Andy frowned. 

Serena and Emily watched her curiously. They'd never known Miranda to be overly sentimental, in fact they'd found her to be quite cold and distant; indifferent at times. But emotionally blind and overly sentimental? 

Andy slammed her hand down on the table. "I am going to bring down Helena. Are you with me or against me?"

Serena shrugged, "with you, I guess."

**

"Stop, stop." Miranda scowled, pulling away from Helena. "Jesus Christ, what are you doing back there?" 

"Well, for fuck's sake, M. Since when do you take it on all fours?" Helena crossed her arms across her chest, sitting back on her legs. "That's so submissive."

"It's not!" Miranda objected, "it's just the position that feels the best. Besides, they say that the person in the submissive position has the power because they call all the shots." 

"You just keep telling yourself that." Helena laughed. 

"I will not be berated during sex." Miranda frowned, pulling on her oversized Chanel tee shirt. 

"I'm not berating you. I just don't think you appreciate how difficult it actually is to do that," Helena mimed thrusting her fingers at the angle that Miranda had demanded. 

"You're the only one who's ever had a problem with it." 

"Well, yeah, Andrea could do it, she's 20." Helena scoffed. 

"Don't talk about Andrea." Miranda got up off the bed and walked into the bathroom and slammed it shut behind her. 

Helena rolled her eyes. Miranda was always the more volatile of the two of them, though she could see that Miranda had been trying for a long time to project the attitude of indifference. After a few moments of silence Helena called, "so does that mean I don't get sex either?" 

After another few minutes Miranda emerged from the bathroom, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. She pulled it out, "how long has it been?"

"How long has... what?" Helena feigned ignorance. 

"How long has it been since you've had sex?" 

"I don't really want to answer that question..." Helena set her features in a stubborn pout. 

"You get to interrogate me and I don't get to interrogate you?" 

"Fine. Let me think, okay?" 

After a few moments of silence Miranda scoffed, "how long do you have to think about it?" 

"Does sex with someone so I could get close enough to kill count? I mean, does it have to be with someone I was attracted to?" 

Miranda rolled her eyes, "hold on." She disappeared into the bathroom and finished brushing her teeth. When she returned she lay on the bed and looked at Helena. "Let me rephrase, when was your last orgasm? Masturbation doesn't count." 

"Oh jeez, M, I don't know... a couple... years ago?" 

" _Years_?" Miranda repeated with incredulity.

"I don't really spend that much time in one place." Helena pursed her lips. "It's hard to find time to have a relationship. Besides I haven't wanted one. I haven't wanted anybody but you." 

Miranda took Helena's hand. "That's sweet and sad." 

**

"You know," Serena said from her perch on the kitchen stool, where she laid her head on her hand and watched them with boredom. "I've been thinking. You know how I'm a smuggler and I _could_ be a sniper, but I wouldn't ever be as good as you?"

Emily nodded, "and I could learn to smuggle things but I'd always fall short of you?" 

"So, where's the point in trying to teach Andy to do your job? You know? She can already shoot, she's pretty much on target and at some point she's just not going to keep getting better. No offense, I mean that in a practical sense." 

"None taken, I guess." 

Serena smiled, "what I'm saying is that the reason why Emily and I function so well is because we both perform duties that are best suited to our talents. Andy, what is your talent? What makes you special?" 

"I'm a really good writer..." 

"No, I mean a marketable talent. One that will help you at Runaway." Serena insisted. 

"Hold on, Serena, you just gave me a great idea." Emily announced, grinning from ear to ear, "yes, Andrea is a writer, but to be a writer one must have the skills necessary to talk people into doing things." 

"Oh! Andy can be a grifter!" Serena agreed enthusiastically. "We haven't had a good grifter in years!" 

"Miranda fancies herself a grifter. But in reality she just uses threats and the fear of retaliation to get people to do things that she wants." 

"Emily, you're a genius, you know who's in town this week?" Serena couldn't hold back her excitement. "Sophie Devereaux! She's here to see the Chagall opening at the Met, she and I are going to get coffee, maybe I can convince her to give Andy some pointers." 

"Hold on, hold on. Who's Sophie Devereaux?" Andy asked with furrowed brow. 

**

"Sophie, mon amour." Serena smiled, taking Sophie in for a hug. "You look wonderful, Boston must have less smog than New York." 

"Boston has been marvelous for my pores yes," she laughed, "but who would be looking at me when you walk into a room, Serena, with your looks you could be an excellent grifter." 

Andy stood there. She didn't mind that she wasn't paying attention because they were clearly ignoring her in favor of catching up. Sophie was a very attractive woman, probably in her early forties and she spoke in a slightly-more-refined-than-Emily's English accent. She had dark hair and a clear complexion, she was probably of Eastern European descent.

Andy was drawn back into the conversation when Serena put a hand on her shoulder, "Andy Sachs, she used to be Miranda's lover but she got burned -- in more ways than one -- and Emily and I think that she might be a grifter. She wants to get back into Miranda's good graces." 

"Well, as they say, don't get mad, get even, right?" Sophie smiled, "how can I be of assistance?" 

"Would you be willing to take her on as an intern for a few days? She's quiet and she takes direction well." 

"I'm also house broken and can bark for a cookie." Andy smirked. 

"Yes," Sophie laughed, "yes, I'd be happy to take her on for a few days. I'll let you know if your instincts were right about her. Are you ready to start today, Andrea?" Sophie sipped her latte.

"Yeah, I was fired. What else do I have to have to do?" 

**

"Helena," Miranda said as she came into the kitchen where Helena was finishing a cup of coffee. "I was thinking and I don't think you should be here when the girls get here." 

"Do they not know that you date women?" 

"No, they know. It's just that they're very fond of Andrea and I wouldn't want it to be too big of a shock. If they see you here before I have a chance to explain they might get upset and then they'll be incorrigible for weeks." 

"You shouldn't have brought Andrea into all of this. You know that if it wasn't me it would have ended badly."

Miranda nodded, "I know. I shouldn't have even started dating her. I put her in harm's way just spending time with her. That was my mistake." 

"But you're also quite fond of her." 

Miranda furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, "stop trying to instigate me. Don't make this harder than it needs to be." 

"I just feel like you're not dealing with it." Helena shrugged. 

"I'm dealing with it!" Miranda snapped. "There's no point in drudging it up every five minutes. It just makes me angry at you." 

"Maybe you need to be angry before you can get over it." Helena said calmly. 

The front door opened. "Hey Miranda?"

Miranda furrowed her brow and looked at her watch. "Stay here," Miranda said to Helena and walked out into the foyer. The girls ran to her and hugged her. 

"Hey, sorry, Miranda." Lucas smiled apologetically, "I know I'm early but I have an emergency meeting. Is that okay?"

"Okay?" Miranda stooped to hold both girls in her arms, "extra time with my monsters is never unwelcome." 

"I'm going to go start the hot chocolate." Caroline announced as she broke free from Miranda's embrace and scampered toward the kitchen. 

"Hey sweetie, hold on!" Miranda called but Helena was already sauntering out of the kitchen with Caroline skidding to a halt. 

"Who are you?"

"Caroline, dear, don't be rude." Miranda scolded. 

"I am a very old friend of your mother's." Helena smiled at the inquisitive twin staring up at her. "I first knew your mother when she was about your age."

"You knew her in England?" Cassidy asked with surprise and sudden interest. "We haven't ever heard much about mum before she came here!" 

Lucas smiled sympathetically at Miranda this time. He clapped her on the back, "good luck." He leaned in and kissed his cheek. 

"Thanks. Good luck at your meeting." Miranda bid him adieu as he left. Miranda had never been as adept at separating her feelings from what she perceived as obligations as she'd pretended to be. Though she may have never been in love with her husbands she still cared for them, particularly Lucas who fathered her children. 

She watched him leave and turned back to the scene in front of her. The girls had dragged Helena back to the kitchen and Helena was preparing hot chocolate as she regaled them with slightly altered tales of their youth. 

Caroline pulled out her cell phone and started to text. 

"Caroline, it's not polite to text when someone is telling you a story." Miranda scolded as she pulled the marshmallows from the cabinet. 

"Sorry, mum." Caroline looked chastised. 

**

Andy's phone vibrated in her pocket and she briefly took her eyes off of Sophie. Sophie snapped her fingers, "Andy, I'm sure I don't need to remind you that time is not on our side and if I'm going to impart my wisdom unto you I have to have your complete attention."

"You do." Andy insisted. 

"Alright," Sophie nodded, "remember that you have to be confident. Forget convincing anyone else if you don't believe what you're saying. You know the secret to beating a lie detector test?" 

Andy shook her head, "no." 

"The way a lie detector works," Sophie began, taking Andy's hand and touching the tips of her fingers, "it picks up on stress. It detects heart rate and sweat. The test giver asks baseline questions so they know what a lie looks like and what a truth looks like. There are two ways to beat the test: one way is to feel nervous about truths just as much about lies so your baseline will never change. The other is harder, it requires you to be completely calm and in control of even your involuntary processes. In essence: you have to believe what you're saying, there is no reason to be nervous when you're telling the truth, right?" 

Andy waited for her to continue but realized Sophie hadn't meant it to be rhetorical. "Right." Andy nodded. 

"It's all about believing in _yourself_ and what you _do_ and what you _say_." Sophie turned around and surveyed the museum cafeteria they were sitting in. "That man over there. Convince him to give you his cup of coffee." 

"What?" Andy laughed. 

"Doesn't matter how you do it. Convince him that he wants to give you his coffee." Sophie nodded toward him for emphasis. 

Andy took a deep breath and stood up and walked over to the man at the table. He smiled up at her, "can I help you?" 

"I hope so." She smiled back flirtatiously, "my sister over there bet me that I couldn't get you to give me your coffee. And-" she laughed, "I know it's silly but I've never won one of our bets. I would really like this to be the day I can wipe the smug grin off her face."

He nodded, smiling, "I know the feeling. I have an older brother, I'm still waiting to best him. In the absence of which," he held up the cup, "today can be your day." 

"I won't forget this." She smiled and accepted the cup, stooping to kiss his cheek. 

Andy walked back to the table and set the coffee in front of Sophie. Sophie picked it up and looked over at the man and then back to Andy with a smile, "how did you do it?" 

"I told him that you bet me to." 

"Clever girl." Sophie conceded, picking up her coat. "Come on, let's get a change of scenery and we'll see if you can stand up to the test. And we'll try different emotions, too." 

"This is fun." Andy grinned as she picked up her purse and followed closely behind Sophie. Andy pulled her cell phone out, remembering the text and when she checked it she faltered. 

"Bad news?" Sophie glanced over her shoulder. 

"No... it's just my girlf- um, my ex's daughter just texted me." Andy swallowed, "I guess she hasn't told them..."

"You're close with her children?" Sophie furrowed her brow in sympathy. 

Andy nodded, "I was." 

"Well, we're going to get you your lady back. That's why we're here, isn't it?" Sophie hooked arms with Andy. "By the time we're done you will be armed to the teeth with the necessary skills." 

"Thank you, Sophie. You don't know me and to do this for me... this is really nice."

Sophie patted Andy's hand, "this is what I do. I and my crew back in Boston, we help people who've gotten a raw deal. I think you fall into that category." 

**

"Mom, I texted Andy, like, hours ago and I still haven't heard back from her." Caroline furrowed her brow, "have you heard from her? Is she okay?"

Miranda, who was sitting at her desk, paused, she pulled her glasses slowly off her face and turned in the chair to look at Caroline who looked back at her with unadulterated concern. "Andrea's fine, Bobbsey." Miranda tried to smile, "but I'm afraid she and I... are no longer together."

"What? What happened?" Caroline demanded. "But... you love her. I don't understand." 

"Sometimes one has to make difficult choices when it comes to someone they love." Miranda sighed, "you'll understand when you're older." 

"Bullshit." Caroline grumbled.

"Caroline Marie, watch your language." 

Caroline stamped her foot. "Why do you make everyone leave you? Why doesn't anyone ever stay with you? Why do you have to be so mean to people? Is that why Andy left you?" 

"Andy left... I broke up..." Miranda's eyes welled up with tears. "It's complicated." 

"She used to be with you and now she's gone." Caroline frowned, "it seems pretty cut and dry."

"It's not." Miranda pursed her lips, trying to pull it together. 

"I'm sick of having to take care of you!" Caroline spat, "everyone leaves you and then it makes you sad and Cassidy and I have to take care of you and I'm sick of it. What are you going to do in four years when go to college?" 

"You don't have to take care of me, Bobbsey," Miranda furrowed her brow. "I do just fine, I'm a grown woman." 

Caroline grumbled and left the room. Miranda watched her retreating form, having the sinking feeling that the battle wasn't over yet. Miranda picked up her phone, she desperately wanted to call Andrea. Andrea always had a knack for making everything sound so sane and calm Miranda's woes. 

But, alas. 

Miranda refused to risk Andy's life to mollify her own ill-feelings.


	9. Chapter 9

Sophie delivered Andy to Serena's apartment. Serena opened the door for them and Emily sat up from her reclining position on the couch. 

"You were right, she's a grifter. She's a good one, in fact." Sophie confirmed.

"You're a godsend, Sophie." Serena smiled. 

"Alright, I have a train to catch. Andy," Sophie kissed her cheeks goodbye, "it was a pleasure. And if you're ever looking for a new gig I know crew who could always use a good grifter." 

"Thanks, but my place is wherever Miranda is." 

Sophie swooned, "so romantic. Good luck, ma chere. Auf Wiedersehen, Serena." 

"Tschüs, Sophie."Serena said as she walked her out.

Emily put the book she was reading on the coffee table. "So, what's your plan now?" 

"Oh... um, well..." Andy bit her lip. Emily rolled her eyes and Andy furrowed her brow, "give me a minute, okay?"

"What's the plan?" Serena asked as she approached the two. 

Andy snapped, "just let me think!" 

"Fine, you think. I'm going to make cappuccino. Anyone else want one?"

"Me." Emily put up her hand as she sank back down onto the couch. "Extra shot?" 

"Mais oui." Serena laughed. 

"You're amazing." Emily smiled, covering her eyes with her arm. 

"Okay, I have a thought, talk me through it." Andy said, taking a seat beside Emily, disrupting her mid-afternoon languish. "So, Helena seems to be a fan of reasonable adults talking through their problems. What if I made Helena an offer she couldn't refuse?"

Emily nodded slowly, absorbing the plan and quietly working it around in her head. "Such as?"

"Well, I hadn't gotten that far yet..." Andy frowned. 

Emily groaned loudly and pushed herself into a sitting position with an annoyed harumph. "Why don't we just kill her? This all seems to be an unnecessary amount of work." 

Serena handed Emily her cappuccino which seemed to temporarily quell Emily's vexation. 

"I have the suspicion that that would also illicit retaliation from Miranda. I don't think any of us want that." Andy shook her head, "no, Helena has to walk away and however that is achieved she has to do it of her own volition." 

Emily snorted, "good luck." She muttered into her caffeine. 

"Hold on. What if we use our combined talents to make her feel like Andy is an actual threat? Helena is an old hat obviously, but if we make Andy seem _so_ skilled then she'll start to worry that her threats against Andy aren't as strong as she thought." 

"So trick Helena into thinking Andy is an idiot savant?" Emily smirked. 

Serena laughed and Andy hit Emily with a pillow. Emily looked at her, startled. Serena laughed harder, "you're going to have to stop picking on Andy, she's packing heat now!" 

**

"I have to go to work." Miranda announced as the girls' driver pulled away from the curb, carrying them toward Dalton. 

"Come on, you're the boss, take a day off." 

"I took yesterday off." Miranda smirked, slipping her sunglasses on as her car pulled up to the curb. "Take in the sights. I've heard that people like to visit the statue of liberty."

"Haven't you ever been?"

Miranda shrugged, "never saw the point." And on that note she slid into the backseat and she was gone before Helena could do anything but smile. 

When Helena opened the door to the townhouse she walked into the kitchen to find food and stopped short and furrowed her brow when she saw Andy sitting at the table reading the paper and drinking a cup of coffee. "What are you doing here?"

"Just grabbing a coffee. There's just something about the way Miranda makes coffee." Andy said coolly flipping the page of the newspaper. 

"Maybe the threat of death wasn't clear enough?" Helena frowned, "get out." 

"Fine." Andy folded the paper and made a show of doing it slowly. "I'm keeping the mug then." 

Helena pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she heard the front door click behind Andy. Andy grinned as she hit the street, she swallowed a mouthful of coffee and headed down the block and ducked into an alley where Serena and Emily were waiting. 

Andy pulled a plastic bag out of her Kenneth Cole purse. The three women huddled around it and Serena pulled a small metal detector from her pocket and hovered it around the gun in the bag. "Don't take the subway, this will go off." 

"Okay." Andy nodded, shoving it back into her purse. "Disarming Helena. Literally and mentally. Check." 

"Alright. Take it and get rid of it." 

"Where?" Andy demanded. 

"I don't know, pick an alley, pick a dumpster. Just _don't keep it_. The ballistics on this gun go back to the cold war. Presidents, diplomats, ambassadors have all been culled with this weapon and you'd have some 'splaining to do if it was found in your possession." Emily insisted pointedly.

Andy nodded, "alright, I got it. It's hot. I'll get rid of it." 

"Okay, now Serena and I are going to follow her around and move things so it's like you're everywhere all at once." Emily held out her hand, "key?"

Andy fished out the ring, "okay, here's front door, back door and the box in Miranda's closet -- no, I'll keep the last one, that won't be necessary."

"The Deringer's in that box, isn't it?" Emily pouted. 

"Maybe..." Andy tried not to grin, it felt good that Emily was jealous of her over something. 

Andy started walking down the street, she didn't want to take a cab anywhere and run the risk of having someone be able to be identify her or reveal where she got out. The gun looked almost the same as the gun Miranda showed her that was from the KGB; they'd probably gotten them at the same time. Apparently Helena was a sentimentalist. 

Andy started to feel nervous as she walked. Normally she loved the anonymity of the city but this day she felt as though a million eyes were on her. She knew she was being silly but the sooner she unloaded the gun the better. 

Once she felt that she was far enough away from the townhouse she took a short detour into an alley and dumped the gun in a dumpster before emerging and crossing the street. 

Unbeknownst to her, a plainclothes detective was purchasing a cup of coffee from a street vendor and watched the odd behavior with suspicion. Once he paid for his joe he crossed the street and was stunned to find the gun. 

**

Nigel lingered in the doorway to Miranda's office. Miranda sighed but didn't look up, "oh yes, Nigel, do continue to hover, I love it so." 

"I'm invited into your space again?" 

She looked up and pursed her lips. "I won't argue with you the difference between my office and a hotel room." She pulled her glasses off and dropped them on the desk. "What do you want?" 

"Alright, one: I'd like my gun back, please." 

Miranda pursed her lips and nodded, "it's in my purse in the closet, you can get it on your way out. And second?"

"My sources tell me that Sophie Devereaux was here in New York this weekend." 

Miranda tried to appear nonchalant. "And?"

"And," Nigel started, leaning forward dramatically, "she spent a chunk of her time with Andy."

"Andrea?" Miranda couldn't hide her surprise. "My Andrea?"

"The Andy, formerly known as your Andy, yes." Nigel nodded. "Apparently, Six is hiding more than a doughnut under that size six dress of hers." 

Miranda snorted. "Is that all, Nigel? I'm quite busy." 

"No Emily today?" He asked casually.

Miranda gave a curt nod, "still sick." 

**

Emily pulled herself back up into the attic. "Alright," she whispered, "I think it's working." 

"We should lay off her for a while and let it fester and then we'll do it more and then Andy will be back at five." Serena whispered back and smiled. "I like working with you, Emily." 

"I like working with you, too." Emily watched Serena's expression of calm and serenity before leaning forward and pressing her lips against Serena's. Serena sucked in a breath but smiled against Emily's lips and returning the kiss. 

**

Miranda was anxious to get home. She found it difficult to care about Runway in the face of potential Runaway business, but the week following Paris was always the most hectic and the time her staff required the most handholding. 

She finally managed to slip out, unseen, at four. 

And promptly got stuck in midtown traffic. 

** 

Serena and Emily met Andy at the back door at five and handed over the keys. "The afternoon went great." Serena assured her. "She was in the sitting room last we checked."

"Bonne chance. Fill us in tomorrow, but not too early." Emily said softly as she took Serena's hand and exited the townhouse. 

Andy wondered what the handholding was all about but tabled her ponderances in favor of pulling a gun on Helena, whom she decided made the perfect arch nemesis. She took the back staircase down to the kitchen where she selected an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter. 

Andy drew her gun and quietly crept into the sitting room. Helena was reading and facing the front door when the back door swung shut. 

Helena whipped around. Andy crunched into the apple and held her gun with the other hand. "You look spooked." She said coyly. 

"How are you doing that?" Helena demanded. "And what did you do with my gun?"

"Your gun? I didn't take it. Best not to leave things like that lying around, you know." Andy taunted. "Children live in this house." 

"You arrogant little tart," Helena growled. "You'll give me my gun back." 

"Or what?" Andy scoffed. "From where I'm standing you're hardly in a position to be making threats considering I've got the gun."

"There are at least thirteen ways I could kill you without any weapons at all." Helena snarled. 

Andy walked forward, gun outstretched pointed at Helena's head. "Walk away. Just get your stuff and walk out of this house and maybe I don't shoot you." 

"I'm not leaving. I love her. And Miriam wouldn't like it if you shot me." Helena said warningly, starting to circle Andy. 

"To quote a friend, I think I'll pop the old lady and take my whacks." Andy cocked the gun. "I am exactly the person for Miranda, I belong in this world. I can prove it by shooting you if you'd like." 

"You talk a big game. You're, what? Nineteen? I have seen Miriam at her best and at her worst. She's killed people. She _loves killing_ people. There are sides of her that you don't know, sides of her that will drive you to distraction." 

"You don't know me. That was your mistake from the getgo, Helena. You have no idea the ends I'm willing to go to for my woman." 

Helena laughed, " _your woman_? Please... not even chauvinists talk like that anymore."

Suddenly a knock startled them both out of their ire. They stood silently waiting for the knocker to retreat, but instead they heard another one followed by "hey, open up, it's the police." 

Andy sucked in a breath, faltering slightly. 

Helena furrowed her brow. "You didn't...?" She whispered. Andy shook her head, looking nervous. "Maybe he'll go away..."

"Come on, I heard voices, I'm not stupid. Open the door." The cop insisted before rattling the doorknob. "Don't make me go get a warrant." 

Andy's mind went immediately to Miranda's locked basement. "Just open it." 

Helena took a deep breath and walked through the foyer. Andy followed but stayed in the shadows by the staircase. Helena pulled the door open, "officer, what can I do for you?"

He held up a badge, "it's Detective, ma'am, Detective Todd. Susan Butler, right? Can I come in?" 

"Actually, I'm kind of in the middle of something, so..." Helena started to close the door. 

"Or should I say Nora Creszki? Mary Anne Archamault? Elena Markov?" Detective Todd put his hand out and stopped Helena from slamming the door shut in his face. He continued in a menacingly soft voice, "or maybe Helena Jameson? Or Spider?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Helena's voice was level and gave away nothing. 

"We'll just wait for Miranda Priestly then, will we?" Detective Todd shrugged, "that's fine. I can wait for her. When do you think she'll be home? I can make life hard for your friend or you can open up and answer me a few questions." 

"If you'll leave her out of it... you can come in." Helena agreed hesitantly, stepping back and allowing him entrance. 

He whistled when he walked in and looked around, "mighty grand place this is, huh?" 

"Get to your point and quick." Helena crossed her arms across her chest. 

"I ran ballistics on your gun and I have to say that I'm impressed. I ran your fingerprints and came up with the aliases. But I'd bet my life that those are only a fraction of your kills and a fraction of your alter egoes. It goes all the way back to your childhood, doesn't it?" 

Helena snorted an ironic chuckle. 

"But I think we can settle this amongst ourselves. Your gun has killed rapists, child molesters, wife beaters and I don't even know how many other really bad guys you've put away. I don't think either of us think society would be better off without you. However..." he trailed off. 

"Yes?" Helena asked impatiently.

"Yes, however, I am now in on your little secret so I'm going to need a cut." 

"I am forever confounded at the supreme arrogance of Americans. I am a highly skilled, experience assassin and yet you think you can intimidate me?" Helena sneered. "But no, I wouldn't kill you. I would take you to within an inch of your life and just when you _begged_ me to end you I would stop and leave you to die slowly and painfully. You will not be getting _a cut_ of anything."

Detective Todd pulled his weapon and pointed it at Helena. "Don't worry. I came with a plan B. If I can't get money from you directly, well, I'll kill you and I get accolades and awards galore for taking out a notorious and internationally wanted serial murderess." 

Helena didn't flinch. 

"I hope you had a plan C." Andy emerged from the shadows holding her gun on Detective Todd. 

The three of them stood still in the foyer, the dust settled around them, illuminated by the setting sun through the frosted glass windows around the door. Suddenly keys jingled on the other side of the door and Miranda let herself in. 

She slowly closed the door, her brow furrowed. "All I can say is that there better be a good explanation for this..."


	10. Chapter 10

Miranda latched the door and turned back to the scene in front of her. "Andrea?" She asked with surprise. "What are you doing here?" 

"I came here to fight for you." Andy admitted not taking her eyes off of Detective Todd. 

"And it seems that you found yourself in a stand off." Miranda frowned. "Man with a gun in my entryway, can you tell me what's going on here?"

"I don't know how much you know about your houseguest, ma'am, but this woman is wanted in twelve countries for a string of murders that make up only a tiny amount of the people she's actually killed." 

"I see." Miranda smirked, "that's unfortunate that you know that." She drew her gun from her Fendi jacket and pointed it at Detective Todd. 

Todd sucked in a breath. He hadn't expected Miranda Priestly to be packing and he was kicking himself for making such an asinine assumption. 

"Let's not doing anything _stupid_ , detective." Miranda warned. "Andrea, lower your weapon, I can handle this." 

Andy slowly lowered her arms, her heart still pounding in her ears. 

"Detective, now you lower your weapon." She waited until he complied, looking over his shoulder at Miranda and her gun. "Just walk away and we won't talk about this embarrassing incident." 

Todd slowly moved towards the door and as he passed Miranda he started to turn. Helena shouted but before she could adequately warn Miranda Todd raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Miranda hissed and fell to the floor. 

"Helena!" Andy yelled and tossed her gun to the older woman.

Helena caught it in one hand and squeezed off multiple rounds, the bullets ripped through Todd easily and he coughed and sputtered and crumpled in front of Miranda. 

Both women rushed to Miranda. Miranda had her hand pressed firmly against the bullet wound in her shoulder. "Call Leslie." Miranda said to Andy as she winced, "tell her it's a paparazzi emergency." 

"It's a... oh, it's code. Got it." Andy pulled out her phone and stepped aside to make the call. 

Helena pulled off her sweater and pressed it against Miranda's shoulder. "You're going to be fine," she whispered. 

"I know." Miranda nodded. "He just got my shoulder. I just have to try to contain the bleeding."

"Just like old times, huh?" Helena gave a half smile, "shot twice in the same shoulder, each time by a cop but thirty years apart." 

Miranda shook her head, "no, it was the other shoulder." 

"Even better. I know what a sucker you are for symmetry." Helena leaned in and kissed Miranda softly. "I'm sorry." 

"For what?"

"This is all my fault. If I hadn't broken you two up... it was selfish of me and now it's gotten you shot." 

"It's not the first time, love." Miranda laughed and winced. 

"Yeah, but this time, I know to bow out gracefully. You're right, I could have gone with you, I should have, but I didn't. That was my mistake and I have to live with that," Helena sighed. "Andrea came here to fight for you and I think that if that doesn't prove how well-suited she is to you, I don't know what else could. She came to fight for you and I waited thirty years... you deserve to be happy." 

"Thank you, Helena." Miranda closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. 

"I'll help you clean up and stay until you're bandaged and on the mend and then I'll say my goodbyes." 

Andy returned, "Leslie's on her way. She said she'd also call The Cleaner. I figure she meant for the blood and body, right?" 

Miranda nodded. Andy knelt down next to her as Helena stood up and took a step back. Andy brushed a hand across Miranda's cheek. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault. If only I'd dumped the gun better. I should have dumped it in the Hudson." 

"Andrea, shh." Miranda ran her fingers through Andy's silky brown hair. She knew that it was really her fault, if she hadn't instigated Helena they could have avoided the whole business. "Shh," she repeated. 

"I love you, Miranda," Andy whispered, "with my whole heart." 

"I know, darling. I love you too." Miranda smiled. "So kiss me already."


End file.
